Have a little faith in me
by asouldreams
Summary: A tired Minerva McGonagall has been elected to be the Headmistress and not only rebuild Hogwarts but restore the faith in the fabled institution. However, whose there for her? HGMM
1. Chapter 1

Filius felt Pomona tuck her hand within his; however, his attention remained riveted to the proud woman before him…and how her shoulders seemed to bow as though the weight of the world had suddenly been thrust upon them. And…in a way, it had…or at the very least, the weight of Hogwarts…and all it's precious occupants; he thought as Mr. Creevey's mother tossed a red rose upon her son's grave…a grieving husband wrapping his arms around his wife…as Minerva stood quietly behind them…a pillar of strength for the family; just like she had been for every other family…for the whole of Hogwarts, and the wizarding world. She had attended, _every_ funeral. Even those of their former students, ones…that he couldn't even bring himself to attend; former Death Eaters...Bellatrix Lestrange, Marcus Goyle…even Tom Riddle's…showing the world that the healing _needed_ to start, somewhere. But…as Pomona's hand squeezed his, he stared at his devout friend - she seemed, fine; even strong…resilient…but a hollowness had taken residence in the depths of her normally piercing emerald eyes; and he couldn't help but wonder…who would help _her_ heal…? And…was there anyone left alive, whom she would accept help from…?

Xoxo

_A/N: I can't take credit for the idea as it was spurred on from a conversation with a friend. Let me know if you want another open story to be worked on in between all the others…if not…_


	2. Chapter 2

She had noticed the Headmistress after Melinda Masterson's funeral, quiet…solid, supportive of her family. Speaking with over two dozen family members as they asked questions about Hogwarts, the future…and its safety; especially as their youngest daughter would be attending this coming year. She had watched for a few moments, marveling at her seeming unending patience, compassion, strength…before she had had to leave with Harry and Ron. The next day, she witnessed a similar scene at Pete Style's funeral…and that evening while attending Fred's too. And…despite her own feelings, and heartache regarding the loss of George's spirited twin; she had noticed…that McGonagall…had been as stalwart and unyielding at Fred's funeral as she had been at the other two. And…now today; was no different. She was there; solid, supportive…and Hermione began to wonder, exactly _how many funerals the Headmistress had attended?_ But the thought was answered as she recalled the headline across the Prophet this morning;

_VOLDEMORT AT REST; MINERVA MCGONAGALL AND KINSGLEY SHACKLEBOLT BEAR WITNESS_

_ All of them? _She silently questioned as Creevey's mother buried her head in her husband's embrace. McGonagall looking on…and Hermione noticed the lack of…something…she couldn't quite put her finger on it; but as the seconds stretched on she was sure…that something was missing. And, in the next instant, the venerable woman was sweeping forward, speaking with the family…answering questions…providing comfort…and she couldn't help but wonder…who was offering _her _comfort? Who was the Headmistress drawing all of her strength from? Was there someone else? Family? She knew so little of the enigmatic woman, not that she hadn't tried to learn about her; she had tried…for the bulk of her third year, to no avail. Well, at least regarding personal information. There had been dozens of books regarding her time as an Auror at the end of Grindlewald's reign; her mastery of transfiguration; even a few books on the dynamic styles that were vastly different and yet perfectly attuned to the other regarding her and Dumbledore and their respective mutual tenure as Headmaster and Deputy; but despite all the literature on the formidable woman, there had not been one biography or biographical text.

She felt a ghostly hand brush her elbow and found herself peeling her gaze away from the woman across the way to meet Harry's green eyes. "Ready?" He asked softly.

"Yes." She replied, "Lunch before we return to the Burrow?"

He nodded in understanding, as they both wanted to be there to support the Weasley's…but…they also both needed a little time away. "Diagon Alley?"

"Fortescues?"

His mouth quirked in a half smile, "See ya there." And with a quiet pop, she was left standing alone for a moment…her eyes involuntarily lifting and landing upon the Headmistress; who was alone, despite being surrounded by a sea of people.

Shaking her head and her thoughts, she apparated to Fortescues; her thoughts however remained upon the lone woman and how instrumental she had been in _her _life…and so many others. And…she couldn't help but wonder…who was now instrumental in _her _life? Or was she alone? And if so, why?

oxox

_A/N: Another snippet…_


	3. Chapter 3

Minerva felt a measure of relief ebb from her bones as the last person left, able to drop the pretense as the 'formidable and venerable' Headmistress because she was finally – alone.

_Alone with another one of her students._

_Another sharp mind and stout heart that would not see tomorrow's sunrise or even this evenings sunset…_

She blinked back another wave of tears that _wanted _to fall while stepping forward, eyes upon the pile of roses and their petals sprinkled atop Mr. Creevey's casket…

_Another student whose life had been cut shorter than her own…_

_Another student she had to say good-bye to._

_And she had already said good-bye to so many…_

The first tear slipped off her lashes, landing on her cheek and slowly making its way downward as she pictured her young cub…

She couldn't help think of how _many_ cubs she _had_ lost over the years…

And another tear slipped off her cheek.

And as Albus' face flashed across her thoughts, _how many friends…?_

Another tear…

_Family?_

The tears were no longer solitary, the trail readily apparent as they ran down her face…

Amelia's burning blue eyes…

_Her lover…_

She heard a half-hearted choke, sob…pulled from her lungs as a trembling hand drew to her mouth…

Knowing that she needed to pull herself together; she still had _one _more day of funerals.

Knowing that now was _not_ the time to lose it…as she needed to be strong…needed the world to know that 'good' prevailed and that yes…they had to rebuild, but _they_ had the strength to do it.

Knowing that the world was looking to her as the Headmistress of Hogwarts; and their stark disbelief when she announced that Hogwarts would be open and running at full capacity by September 1st.

But…

Despite knowing what she had to be…

She knew what she was…

So very tired.

Tired of burying her students, all of them – from Lestrange to Weasley. Tired of being the pillar of strength. Tired of being the last one standing upon the chessboard to defend the king... Tired of re-building and fixing the world… Tired of losing those she cared for…

She felt her head drop, shoulders shaking as gentle sobs slipped unbidden from her lips; because even though she knew she needed to hold it together…she also knew…that she was alone…

And she was tired of that too.


	4. Chapter 4

"Are you sure?" Harry asked as they stepped from Fortescues.

Hermione nodded, "I wanted to stop back by the grave sight and then go home and inspect the house. It's been almost a year…"

He adjusted his glasses, "Do you want company?"

She shook her head as she laid her hand on his forearm, "Go help Ginny, I'm sure she would welcome the company."

"Ron does too…" He started, but let his voice trail off knowing that now was not the time to broach reconciliation between his two friends. Not after what Ron had said the night before last. His voice softened, "Whether he can say it now or not, Hermione; he really does love you."

Hermione fought back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she bit the edge of her lip while shaking her head, "No, he…" She cleared her throat, "Loves the _idea_ of me."

Harry placed a hand upon her forearm, "Hey, just give yourselves a bit of time."

Watery brown eyes blinked as they met olive ones, "I meant what I said Harry, I'm not waiting; I've been doing that for three years and…if he doesn't feel as though I'm part of his family after everything we have gone through." She shook her head, "I'll be there for you, Ginny, George, their parents and Ron, but as a friend; Harry. And after this week I'm going to find my family and fix my life; and we'll see where everything else stands."

Harry nodded, "Alright." He knew better than to push any farther, "But you are stopping by the Burrow tonight?"

She gave a half-hearted smile. "I'll be there before dinner."

He reached out and wrapped her into a one armed hug, "See you soon."

"You too." She breathed back before they both pulled away and he vanished with a slight pop and a moment later, she did too. Unlike earlier, the cemetery was starkly barren; with only headstones as patrons greeting her eyes as she scanned the chilling vista of monuments…until her eyes landed upon a solitary figure that looked as though it hadn't moved since she was here over an hour ago.

The silhouette was one she would know anywhere; from the crisp cut of her robes, the brilliant shade of emerald, the proud rigidity in her back…she was statuesque. And as if sensing another had arrived, she lifted her head; the intensity of her gaze lost upon the distance between them, but Hermione knew it to be there. Intense was as innate a characteristic to McGonagall as daft was to Ronald. And before Hermione could utter a word or even move one step closer, McGonagall had vanished to leave her alone.

Sighing, she walked forward wondering why the Headmistress had chosen to stay for so long. _Had everyone finally left? She stayed out of duty? _She stepped around the tombstone before Colin's, eyes falling to the still unearthed casket; the petals of roses, and then the trodden ground around the grave…noting the slightly sunken area.

Taking a handful of steps, she kneeled to where there were boot prints left. Left from someone standing in one spot for a lengthy period of time. _How long was she here? _She stretched out her hand, feeling the blades of grass tickle across her palm. _And why stay so long? _She stood closing her hand and paused at the light dampness across her fingertips and head turning back to the grave to make sure it hadn't rained.

Before she realized what the dampness had stemmed from; her heart seizing at the notion.

_She had been crying._

_ For whatever reason, McGonagall had stayed after and cried. Alone. Without anyone here. And Hermione suddenly felt, torn. To go and see if McGonogall had returned to Hogwarts upon her arrival or returned to the Burrow. If she wasn't at Hogwarts; it's not as though she knew where the Headmistress lived. As far as she knew, no one from the Order did. Though, Dumbledore probably did…but that wouldn't help now. Unless she could access the Head of Hogwarts office, without McGonagall in it. _

_ And returning to the Burrow…_images of Ron flashed through her head and the decision was easily made. With the image of Hogwarts firmly planted in her mind, she apparated.

* * *

A/N: Another tease ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione had been aghast at the overwhelming destruction that still littered Hogwarts, the grounds, the halls as she stopped in front of the weathered gargoyle. One of the few areas that had been fixed within Hogwarts, and she sighed. She didn't know the password.

"Ginger newts." She tried and it remained, fixed.

"Lemon tea." It practically growled.

Hermione thought back, trying to remember what passwords McGonagall used to use on her old quarters.

"Carpe Diem."

"Whimsical Madness." She said, suddenly remembering the strange password from her third year; but the gargoyle merely rolled its eyes.

"Dammit." Hermione muttered, placing her hands on the worn stone protectorate. The gargoyle didn't respond, merely stared ahead with its stony expression. "I just want to speak with the Headmistress."

"Your heart is true." It rumbled before the stony staircase began moving, granting her entry. She had only been in the Headmaster's office a handful of times, typically with Harry or because of him. The steps ground to a halt before a worn green door, and with a knock, she opened it to find the suite in shambles.

Books strewn everywhere, portraits askew, glass shattered…much like the whole of Hogwarts and Hermione silently wondered how on Earth did McGonagall expect to have the school open and ready by the start of the new term year?

"Ahhh Miss Granger." Albus stated, "To what do we owe the visit?"

"Is Professor McGonagall in?" Hermione questioned stepping around the upturned green and silver sofa.

A handful of portraits turned expectantly to Dumbledore, and he merely leaned forward, eyes peering over his half moon spectacles. "She is."

Hermione's gaze swept over the madness, "Do you know where, Sir?"

"She returned to the Tower." He sagely replied.

With a nod she turned to leave. "Thank you."

"And Miss Granger…" His voice calling off to her, causing her to pause and cast a look at him over her shoulder. "If you could be so kind and give her a hug from me."

She felt her brows furlough together but nodded despite herself. "Ahhh…of course, Professor."

With a nod, he leaned back eyes already closing. "Thank you."

* * *

Oxox

A/N: Another snippet…because of the 'lack' of length; may try to get multiple updates each week – though no promises. And yes…have been plugging away at Bonding; will REALLY try and get a chapter out this week but doubtful, stuck on a HG/MM conversation ~ and don't want to *rush* that ;)


	6. Chapter 6

Tiredly, she placed the lid back onto the decanter of Og's nectar. She shouldn't indulge, shouldn't be taking the evening off with so very much to do, but…she was just…

Numb.

And exhausted.

And…she paused in her self-assessment as she lifted the golden liquid to her lips, trying to ignore how alone she truly felt.

As there only remained a scant few people who truly knew her and had yet to pass the veil. And…did she really _want _to let many more in? And who would she? She took another sip, recalling Alastor's youthful, wholesome expression from their days at Hogwarts together to Amelia's vivid eyes and sighed. There were just too few people left in the Britain's wizarding world as it was, and most of them had been her student…

And she just…had issue with letting previous students into her life.

It was awkward. Amelia always used to give her a devil of time regarding the fact, _'especially as over half of the wizarding world is comprised of your former students, Minerva…'_

No matter how true that was, it was still…difficult. She had bridged the gap a handful of times regarding friendship, normally with previous Gryffindors and grudgingly because of Albus' interference but never a lover. She had never worried nor thought about that fact until after Amelia's death…

He acutely understood the dynamic of being an educator and subsequent friend; but while her pool of potential friends and lovers was slim, his were downright rare. Which he pointed out one evening last year in his typical whimsical fashion as they shared a bottle of Cognac, that if he hadn't learned to move past age barriers even they would not be friends…as there was a stark age difference between them, and could she imagine him finding a lover whom he had not educated.

_"But equity, dear." He leaned back adjusting his shoulder along the cushion, gingerly wrapping his burnt hand around the glass. "A most relevant and necessary part of any relationship, especially concerning former students."_

_ "And tell me, Albus." She swirled the cup in the palm of her hand, "How many former students have you found that can be 'your' equal?"_

_ A note of sadness reverberated through his blue depths. "Only three." He quietly murmured before forcing the corner of his lip upwards, "And while you are amongst the three, I doubt either of us would be pleased in 'that' type of relationship my dear."_

_ "Hardly, though, it would send the halls buzzing even more than they already are regarding the nature of our relationship."_

_ The twinkle began returning, "While enticing, as are you," He shook his head, "I'm afraid it'll have to remain innocuous."_

_ "But…surely Albus, how can you remain hopeful after only encountering three people…"_

_ "Love is hope, dear." He interjected, "And I have hope for you."_

_ "And if I am to have hope, can I hope that the other two were more than mere friends?"_

_ A light shinned from the depths of his worldly eyes, "I would never consider you a mere friend." Her brow quirked, and he chuckled knowing full well the diatribe upon the tip of her tongue. "There are some mysteries my dear that are left to be safeguarded from even the stoutest of friends, but rest assured, your hope can be replaced with faith."_

_ Minerva recalled the thousands of times she had come up to his rooms, and not once had he someone present save for a member of the staff…and while close to many, he was not 'that' close to any of them. She thought back to the dinner parties, the celebrations, the dances…never once had he taken an escort, and if he had to, he took her. Shaking her head, "While I shall try to be hopeful, Albus. I am also faced with the very real truth that I am getting older and since Amelia's passing I…don't believe I shall find another love in depth or equity as I once had."_

_ "I believed as you did once," His voice laden with emotion, "but love is precious Minerva and often found when you are least looking."_

_ "And I found love Albus. A love that enraptured my soul, how can you believe that I shall find another? She was my other half…"_

_ "Or perhaps she was the road to your other half whom you have yet to meet." She looked at him aghast, and he immediately continued. "I meant no disrespect to her or you, my dear as you well know my feelings regarding Amelia; however, there is the possibility that you will meet and fall in love with someone else."_

_ "Albus how can you suggest…"_

_ "Because, it happened to me." He quietly admitted._

Oxox

A/N: Hope you're still enjoying :)


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7_

Sighing, Minerva set her half emptied glass down on her end table and stood, hair tumbling down her back. She vaguely thought about braiding it or placing it back into her all too familiar bun; but knew that it was either Filius, Pomona or Argus and her hair was the least of her concerns this afternoon. Taking a deep breath she opened the door and felt her world stop at seeing…

Hermione stared into red-rimmed startled emerald eyes, whose hair was cascading down around an ashen, tired face but with the all too familiar lines of her jaw, cheekbones, lips… "Ahhh…Professor McGonagall."

Minerva forced her scattered thoughts immediately into their typical logical order, "…Miss Granger." She subtly cleared her throat and withdrew a step to immediately increase the space between them. "What can I help you with?"

Hermione took note of the Professor's…the woman's abrupt change in both body language and cadence. She, herself, had been surprised to see McGonagall with such an open expression upon her face and hair down upon arriving; and now…she was 'closing' up. "I…" She cleared her throat, suddenly uncomfortable at her own decision to come here. _What had she been thinking…? Why had she come? _And then her eyes locked with McGonagall's, noticing redness and light swelling, and her own self doubt and discomfort regarding her coming here dissipated. "Actually came here to see how you are doing?"

Minerva's calculating brain was brought to an immediate halt by the side-bending question that she had not expected to hear from the young woman standing in her doorway. And she responded by rote, voice level, eyes appearing sincere but now heavily guarded. "Fine, albeit a bit tired from the activities over the last few days."

Hermione couldn't help but inwardly smile at McGonagall's simplistic way of describing the past week, 'activities.' It made it seem…easy, light…and not at all as it truly had been; from the battle at Hogwarts to the non-stop funerals or the shattered remnants of the prestigious school. However, despite the carefree almost jubilance being expressed, Hermione knew that was not the case. But…how to address it without the woman before her retreating farther away than she already had merely by opening the door? "I was just…" A deep warmth emerged from brown depths, "Concerned. From what I have seen and surmised, you have been to every funeral and going nonstop since the Battle and…well…" Hermione felt the words stumble upon her lips as the elder witch's green gaze, hardened. "Just wanted to make sure that you were, alright."

Minerva bit back a harsh retort, knowing that Granger's motives were sincere and the last thing she needed was to give the poor young woman anything else to worry about given how the last two weeks had been on her too. Instead, she feigned a smile, forcing it to seem sincere as it was not Miss Granger's fault that her own nerves and cordiality had been pushed past her reserves over the last week. Well past them. And…now…there was someone at _her_ home…invading the few scant hours of sanctity and solitude before she had to once again be what everyone needed her to be; the iconic Minerva McGonagall. _Undoubtedly she saw me when she returned back to the grave site…_The thought line made her pause, leaving her to wonder why Hermione had returned._ Was it out of obligation? Were she and Mr. Creevey closer than mere housemates? _She ceased that line of thinking instantly, now she was being irrational; Granger had been and would be with Weasley, unless the young man had done something incredibly foolish. Which, after everything they had been through, would have to be momentous. _No,_ she reasoned, _that wasn't it; but then…what had caused her to return?_ "As I said, it has been a long week." She reiterated hoping to quell the young woman's curiosity. "And the coming weeks look to be equally as long. And while I appreciate your concern, Miss Granger, it is not warranted."

Hermione knew that the Headmistress' words were sincere as it _had _been a long week; and she would be facing a summer's worth of them as she prepared for the coming year while filling staff positions and rebuilding Hogwarts; however the redness around her eyes indicated that she was anything _but_ alright. And Hermione was again reminded of why she had forever looked up to the iconic woman before her; as she was stalwart, brave, incredibly intelligent, unyielding…the lighthouse upon the stormy shores...and seemingly unendingly resilient. But the stark truth was that she was not an icon, nor invincible as people believed; she was as mortal as Dumbledore and as human. "Perhaps not wanted, nor inclined by one such as me, but…" Her voice became softer, "Definitely warranted and needed." She drew herself upright and began to take a step away, "I am sorry for disturbing you Professor. And I hope…" Her gaze flicked to the left of McGonagall's shoulder and then back, "That the weight of the summer eases and I would be most happy to assist you and the staff in rebuilding before the start of term if you find you have need."

Minerva had been expecting a rebuttal, prepared to offer her own that stated she was indeed _fine_, and found herself momentarily at another loss as the young woman had surprised her, again. Not that it would be hard as of late, as it took far too much energy to pick up her feet as she needed and found herself to be…rather flat-footed of late and caught off guard more times than she could count. Particularly once she returned to Hogwarts, then again, this was the first day since the Battle that she had not already finished off a bottle of nectar by this hour of the day and was well into her second one. "The weight will ease," She murmured more to herself than to Granger, "As with most things, it merely takes time."

Hermione frowned, "Excuse me?"

Minerva shook her head, "I fear I was merely prattling," She feigned a smile, "I do thank you for your concern…" She paused debating and found the word far easier than perhaps it should have been, or perhaps it was the alcohol already consumed, but it truly didn't matter as it left her lips surrounded in her Scottish lilt. "Hermione. And as for Hogwarts, I shall know within two weeks time the extent of the damage and let you know then."

"Then you haven't done a full assessment?" Hermione asked, slightly stunned. She would have sworn on her Hogwarts A History book that McGonagall would have already done an assessment regarding the areas of damage and estimated length of repair for each section.

Green eyes narrowed, at the young woman's perception. "I have." She answered simply, choosing not to elaborate.

"Then why two weeks?" Hermione questioned.

_Because I wish to lay in a stupor for the better part of one week hoping that this all has been a horrid dream and I shall wake to find myself ensconced in Amelia's arms thankful that this nightmare has finally ended, _she answered to herself. "The world, including the Professors', need a measure of time to heal."

"Then I look forward to hearing from you." Hermione stated.

Minerva nodded, "Will you be staying at the Burrow?"

Brown eyes instantly darkened, "No." She said a little too sharply, drawing a raised brow from the Headmistress. "If you could send my correspondence to my parents, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Very well." Minerva replied, "I shall send an owl as the preparations take form."

"Take care." Hermione stated, but paused remembering Dumbledore's odd request. "Ohh…" She cleared her throat and felt her cheeks flush as she continued on. "When I came here, I stopped by the Head of Hogwarts suite and…Dumbledore's portrait asked…"

Minerva's brows crinkled, "Albus spoke with you?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, he told me where to find you."

_Strange._ Minerva thought while she coaxed Hermione to continue on, "And…?"

"He asked…that…well…" Hermione fought off the odd wave of discomfort she felt, and stepped forward…embracing the elder woman. "That I give you a hug." She finished as McGonagall stiffly returned the gesture.

It was an awkward hug that lasted for a scant moment, but…it was enough to tell Hermione that the woman's frame was smaller and held less weight than she imagined. And as they pulled apart, a faint mix of lavender and vanilla grace her senses. Before a thick brogue cut through her thoughts.

"Damn old meddling coot." Minerva murmured as she stepped back, a pale light flickering in the depths of her emerald eyes. "But I thank you for the endearment and message."

Pink cheeks smiled, "Good evening Headmistress."

"And to you, Hermione." She replied, feeling momentarily lighter than she had in days. "And please," Hermione paused, turning half around. "Simply Minerva will do."

"Very well, simply Minerva." Hermione chided.

Minerva closed the door to her chambers, a smile truly upon her lips as she shook her head at both Albus' meddling antics and the young woman whom he had carry them out…and how incorrigible they both were.

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

_A/N: The second half of my productivity from yesterday. Unlike my other ongoing stories, this one isn't riddled with angst. I know, I know…you are scratching your head going, is that really true or is she waiting to spring it on us later. The answer is simple; this story is just a plain old-fashioned romance story, well as old-fashioned as you can get in the Harry Potter world after a war…after…well you get the point ;) So hope you continue to enjoy, and see you soon._


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

It was with an unsteady hand that fumbled with the silver Celtic broach as the tired woman tried again to clasp it upon her robes.

"One more day." She murmured into the breaking dawn, the first vestiges of light streaming into her room. "Just…one…more." She whispered to herself again, turning the whole of her focus upon her broach alone. And still normally nimble fingers faltered, the silver broach clattering to the floor as the tall, proud woman's jaw flickered. The emotion, so close to the surface, bubbling up; wanting to overflow but she _couldn't_ let it.

Not yet.

Not until after today.

Not until after four more funerals.

Four more good-byes.

Not until she had buried four more students.

Tears threatened to swallow her eyes, already blurring her vision; and gently she closed her eyes to quell the feeling. A feeling, she couldn't afford to have; until after the funerals.

Unsteadily, a hand reached out, wandlessly summoning the fallen object; and it responded instantly as the cool metal suddenly brushed her fingertips. But upon wrapping her fingers around the broach, she merely remained standing; unmoving and taking deep, normally calming breaths.

However, today they did not assuage her feelings nor calm her thoughts.

Because she still had to face the families from four more of her _previous _students. Had to face the reality that she had survived, again. And they had not. That they would never be able to contribute to _their _world and leave _their _mark. But; she had. Not once or even twice, but a third time. A third war.

And given a third life to live and rebuild. And they hadn't even been given the chance at one.

She could feel her emotions pull the fabric of her soul as they twisted in her guts and stomach. But her iron will remained and despite the mist again collecting along the sides of her eyes; she would not give in.

Not yet.

She needed to remain strong.

For just _one _more day.

And with eyes closed, she tried fastening her broach again. And as the familiar sound clattered against the floor; she opened her eyes to see it staring back her, mockingly. It, like everything else in her life, refused to return to a semblance of normality.

With a heavy sigh, trembling fingers wrapped around the worn ebony wood and she proceeded to move it in a series of half-hearted flicks before she placed her wand back into the folds of her robes. Its job done for now, as a silver broach glinted in the light.

She stepped forward, ignoring her real broach as it lay motionless on the floor. Waiting for her to try again.

But, she couldn't.

She didn't have the energy to try nor the stamina to withstand another failure. She had already failed so many…and she would see the remaining relatives of another four she had failed who sought understanding and meaning in how their loved ones died.

Because they hadn't lived long enough to celebrate how they lived. And she felt her jaw ripple…as her body _wanted_ to give in to the overbearing amount of pent up emotion.

But much like the broach, it sat; waiting.

And she swept from the room, appearing as she needed – the morning twilight spilling across the cut of her jaw and the glint of hard emerald eyes as her distinct gait echoed off the walls; the Headmistress of Hogwarts; one of the remaining iconic pillars for which to help stabilize the wizarding community.

Now, if only that was how she felt.

She rounded the corner, robes billowing around her; mind shoving the last self-pitying thought aside.

She'd have time for those later. They were there, waiting for her…

After today.

xoxo

A/N: Hope you enjoyed!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Hermione jerked awake at the noise, her heart hammering in her chest; fingers already gripping her wand as her damp clothes hung to her. Her brown eyes were scanning the room as her ears continued listening for any additional disturbances; only to hear none. However, it was too late; she was awake. And as she began to wonder whether it was a _noise_ that had awoken her; but…the tremors in her lower back and upper arms said otherwise. As did the last vestiges of Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix's voice…and she fought off a shudder as her stomach clenched and twisted.

_So much for the noise, _she thought as she flung the covers from her sweaty body. Needing to get up, to stretch, and dispel of the last of her nightmare. A nightmare that had been plaguing her with greater frequency, one she unfortunately realized was directly correlated to her no longer being absolutely exhausted.

She turned on the lights in her room; her unease immediately dissipating at seeing objects from her past. Over a thousand books shoved onto the three book cases that lined her wall opposite of her bed; two framed daily prophets that had captured both Dumbledore and McGonagall in separate but blazing duels; her Hogwarts letter; and a sundry of other items…each one bringing another layer of comfort.

With blind efficiency, she moved through her childhood house as she made her way downstairs. And as she passed the foyer, she felt another weight ease in her stomach as she had been awoken by a noise.

The delivery of her Daily Prophet. With a subtle flick of her wand, the paper jumped into her hand; and she undid the binding as she stepped into the kitchen absently flicking on her coffee pot. She skimmed the front page, noting Harry's defeat of Voldemort was making still front page news; in the corner though it remarked that today marked the last of the funerals.

She found herself gazing at the names, only one student was to be buried today; a Ravenclaw. Marion Masterson, a sixth year. Of the other three; two were middle aged wizards and the third, Severus Snape.

Severus Snape.

Her Professor and ultimately the man who had helped to save Harry and the wizarding world by committing a self sacrifice for the very people who loathed him. She, being one of them. And…she felt…awful for it.

How could they have doubted him so much? And by doing so, doubted Dumbledore?

And…what did McGonagall…_Minerva_ a stray brain cell corrected, think of him? His actions? Hers and how they related to him?

Did she know what Dumbledore had planned? And if so, why did she cast a flurry of spells after Snape?

The annoying beep signaling the coffee had finished brewing; however, as she poured herself a cup, her thoughts remaining fixed upon Snape and his actions over the years, it was apparent her ruminations were far from being finished on the topic.

Xoxo

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_A/N: Yes, a cup of frozen Butterbeer tastes really good. Yes, Hogsmeade and Hogwarts look authentic, especially at night. Yes, there are exceedingly long lines. Yes, the three broomsticks is worth the wait. And yes, my trip to Universal and Harry Potter may have caused a delay in posting to Bonding. As Hagrid used to say; ' Sorry, 'bout that.' _


	10. Chapter 10

Filius and Pomona drew next to their friend who was speaking with Galinda and Fredrick Masterson about how their daughter was killed; and Pomona involuntarily squeezed her husband's hand for comfort at Galinda's harsh tone.

"Mitchell will not be attending Hogwarts next year, as we will not send another one of our children to an institution that encouraged underage children permission to engage in a war that was beyond their grasp."

Minerva didn't blink an eye as she met the furious, pain filled gaze. "I am quite sorry to hear that Mitchell will not be rejoining us next year; he has a bright future…"

A loud crack resonated outward, and it was Pomona's turn to stop Filius as the remaining witches and wizards stared wide-eyed at the grieving mother who had just slapped…Minerva McGonagall across her cheek. "Marion did to." She choked out. "Until _you_ let her believe she was capable of stopping Death Eaters."

"The first casualty in any war; is the loss of innocence and the death of our youth; because they still harbor hope and believe in the possibility of goodness and the foolish notion of invincibility. And as the war ravages onward, that innocence is stripped away; leaving only a handful of people who remain embolden for what they believe in; and that takes a tremendous amount of bravery. A quality your daughter possessed by volunteering to help our younger students flee to safety as the Professors were busy engaging the Death Eaters on the front lawns. Your daughter was killed by a Death Eater that broke through our lines, after the death of my colleague, Aurora Sinistra. She battled the wizard, protecting her fellow classmates and saving a young first year, Sarah Evans by using her body to shield hers from the Avada Kedarva curse. I am truly sorry for your loss Mr. and Mrs. Masterson and can honestly say that if it were within my power, I would trade places for _any _one of my students if it meant that they would be afforded another chance at life." Minerva delicately reached into her robes, pulling a folded piece of parchment out and handing it forward. Emerald eyes unwilling to permit Galinda to glance away from her. "Mrs. Evans asked that I give you this; as she is with her daughter at St. Mungos."

Tentatively, Galinda reached out; her voice matching the aghast expression upon her face. "I…am….I didn't know."

"I am truly sorry, and I wish both of you and young Mr. Masterson a safe year. Good day." Minerva turned away; only to feel the presence of her two colleagues trailing beside her.

"Are you alright?" Pomona asked as they stepped farther away, her brown eyes scanning Minerva's face; easily able to ascertain where Mrs. Masterson had struck her. The hand print a stark contrast to her normally light complexion.

"Fine." Minerva stated as they continued to glide away from the handful of remaining guests. _Only three more…_ She silently thought before turning to the stout witch. "And nothing that a glamour charm won't cover for the rest of the day."

"Minerva," Filius' small hand resting and subsequently halting his far taller colleagues brisk walk. "That is not what Pomona was referring to, as you well know."

Rays of the morning's light cascaded across her marred cheek as she tipped her head, eyes carefully guarded. "I am aware, my friend. And I am _fine_. She is in pain and trying to understand how her only daughter was ripped from her life and wishes to affix blame."

"She cannot think that you or any of the Professor's are responsible for her daughter's death…" Pomona began, but Minerva's piercing stare brought a halt to her rebuttal.

Minerva buried her own thoughts on the subject, for she had _three_ more obligatory funerals to attend; and instead stated what she needed to, helping to begin the healing process for her two dear friends. "We did what we needed to do to protect _all_ of our students and as much as we wish we could have saved them all; it was beyond our ability. Anyone's for that matter."

Xoxo

_A/N: Well…here's another morsel. Hope you enjoyed…_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Hermione had been floored by the volume of persons attending Severus' funeral. It was not quite the same size as Dumbledore's, but…damn close. She was surprised that Filius had given the benediction, however, it was ..._Minerva_...who stepped up, moving towards his casket and suddenly a velvety white flower was held within her long fingers. Hermione could tell from the shape it was not a rose, but its origin and name escaped her as McGonagall paused at the edge of the grave, hundreds of eyes upon her as she knelt down. A whisper of words quietly uttered and forever lost upon the wind, before a quaint smile touched the enigmatic woman's lips.

She had always wondered about the two house rivals and whether their house hostility stretched to the Professor's themselves. And from the moment of tenderness that had graced McGonagall's face; she would hazard a guess of; no. Their house's rivalry did not extend to them.

With her usual elegance and grace, the Headmistress stood and with one last glance she tossed her flower outward. The white petals glistening as it gently glided downward; and she towards her seat. The soft flower bounced upon the casket, and as if planned a loud crack eschewed forth; Minerva McGonagall having apparated away mid-stride…and thousands of petals began raining down from the heavens.

A velvety rain gently brushing the guests as their rich scent beginning to sweep through the glen; gardenia.

Leaving Hermione and the hundreds of remaining guests to wonder what was the meaning behind the unusual sentiment openly displayed by the closely guarded witch.

It was close to an hour later that Hermione was standing beside Harry and Ginny. The last of the guests remaining.

"Are you sure you don't want to come back to the Burrow this evening?" Ginny asked, a hint of worry lacing her voice upon seeing the circles Harry had spoken of earlier. "Good dfood, friends…"

Hermione was already shaking her head, "I do appreciate the offer, but after earlier this week…" She forced a smile upon her face, "I don't think that is wise. Emotions are thick at your house, Ginny. Besides, I started cleaning at my parents and would like to have that finished before I head to Australia."

"Come on, Hermione. I spoke with Ron and straightened it all out. He feels like an idiot."

Harry couldn't help but crack a grin at her remark. "Definitely a bit daft."

"So come on, and we'll go to your house tomorrow; the lot of us. It won't take but half a day and…"

"I just can't, right now." Hermione interjected. "While I truly appreciate it; I can't. Some…things were said between he and I, that will take a bit longer than three days to heal, Ginny."

Ginny opened her mouth, but felt Harry's gentle hand along her back; indicating that she needed not to push…at least right now. "Alright. But…" Blue eyes swept over her friend, "We're just worried. It's obvious you're not sleeping."

"Just the last two nights, and if it keeps up…" Hermione paused, trying to keep her voice light at the joke she was about to make; despite the heartache from the event from three nights ago. "I'll ask you two over for a sleepover."

Harry and Ginny both smiled, "And we'll be glad to." Harry stated as Ginny bobbed her head. "Merely ask, and we'll be there."

Xoxo

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed :)_


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

She knew she shouldn't, but…the notion of being able to maintain a conscious thought was too much and she banished the seal off of her third bottle of nectar. She relished having a moment of blackness; to drown the chasm of despair that had taken hold in her heart and to quell the burden resting upon her shoulders. A moment of blissful...sanctified...peace.

Peace from the parents. Their children's, her students, screams.

Peace from the carnage across the once beautiful green lawns of Hogwarts.

A shaky hand lifted the bottle upwards, to her partially dried lips; the liquid nectar coating her parched flesh as it slid down throat. A far too familiar burn, but one that she welcomed with open arms.

Because she needed to blanket out the screams, the unending amount of repairs to not only Hogwarts but the entire wizarding world in both the physical _and _emotional realm and...because _she _needed a moment of peace from the pain in her soul…

She took another swallow...vaguely noticing that her tongue had lost partial feeling as her thoughts drifted to another time...and a happier place - where she could find comfort in Amelia's embrace, Albus' friendship and even Alastor's paranoia...

Her thoughts beginning to fray and lose cohesion as she numbly ingested more nectar...

Tears streaming down her cheeks, wanting...to not feel, alone.

To have _someone _to hold _her..._

To tell _her _that tomorrow _would _be a better day; and for her not to have be the one to wake up...and make it better.

Or at the _very least_ to not be the only one to make it better...

To not be alone...

She narrowed her eyes as she pulled the bottle from her lips again, trying to focus on exactly _how much_ was left and if she needed to procure a forth bottle before she couldn't stand. There was just under half, and...if she was still conscious at the rate and speed she was ingesting...then she was sure to able to stand...she ruefully chuckled between the tears. _Why not...I am after all...Minerva McGonagall. Practically invincible. Lived through three bloody wars..._

Despair and a soul wrenching pain ripped through her as she gasped..._  
_

_But truly what was the point...in living past almost all of my friends, my family, my students, my lover...to bury so much...and so many and to have to rebuild for what? Hogwarts? A future? The next generation who will not appreciate what 'they' have given. Who won't know Severus Snape except in the most generic of terms; or Alastor Moody or even Albus. They will be nearly names on a page, a footnote...like me. _

_And for what?_

_To have lost...everything...even...hope; and yet that is what I have to provide._

_Hope that tomorrow will be and 'is' better. Hope...that Hogwarts will once again be whole; like the our families...ourselves..._

_And that our world will never again be torn asunder..._

_Leaving everything barren...and alone..._

_Like me...I'm tired of being...alone..._a minute part of her soul whispered, as she openly chastised her thoughts. "Stop being...selfish..."

She...tried to tip the bottle up again, but the weight and effort were just too much and it clattered to the floor.

And, she felt the world darken; perhaps it was the hour of night, the lack of food in combination to the sheer amount of alcohol or the beginning of easement of stress from the past several days; but whatever it was…or combination thereof…it couldn't come soon enough. Minerva's body following suite, collapsing upon her couch; blissfully…unconscious.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_A/N: The good news...you're getting another update. The bad news, as you could tell, it wasn't 'Bonding'. The better news...I'm diligently working on it and it should be up within a few days. The great news, Bonding's update is a paradoxical opposite in length compared to these updates . The super news...don't have it yet; but maybe one of you can come up with it ;)_

_As always, hope you enjoyed!  
_


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Here's another tease…_

Chapter 13

Hermione made her way through the stone hallway, feet knowing this path by route, absently noting that the suits of armor, pictures and flags on _this_ path had been repaired. And as she rounded the corner, it became apparent how much _had _been repaired previously. The landing where McGonagall's quarters were located, still had a broken pillar blocking most of the entry; a slashed portrait, a broken suite of armor and smashed statue, and Hermione was surprised to see the portrait of the Fat Lady standing next to the destroyed canvas.

"I'm here to see the Headmistress." Hermione replied.

"Password." Came her haunting voice.

Hermione frowned, stepping forward and knocked on the door. "I don't have one." She muttered as she knocked again and waited. Hagrid had said that McGonagall was here; and that other than he, she was the only _one_ who was here. Before coming to her rooms, she had stopped by the Head of Hogwarts suite, what remained of McGonagall's classroom and office and the kitchens. She was not within any of the aforementioned, and upon seeing Sir Nicholas; she asked the Gryffindor ghost and he reaffirmed that the Headmistress had not been seen within the Castle today and had probably opted to remain within her rooms to catch up on much needed correspondence.

She knocked a third time, _she's probably repairing a corridor…somewhere_ she thought turning away from the door. However, she was stopped by the sudden appearance of Kreacher. "You'se is here to see the Headmistress?" He asked, eying the mildly annoying mudblood, who…was unlike so many of her kind.

"I am." She stated, "Do you know where she is?"

He gave a half-hearted nod. "Within." He stated cryptically.

At once, Hermione turned back around; frowning as she reached up about to knock again. _Why had the Headmistress not answered?_ But her hand did not reach the door as Kreacher's voice stopped her.

"Why have you come?" He asked.

"To ask her advice." Hermione answered, hoping Minerva would know of a locating charm or of how to contact Flitwick and speak with him, if she did not know. "And…" The last part far quieter than the first one, "To see if she is doing alright."

Hermione felt like an eternity had passed as he stared up at her, unmoving, unblinking…and finally, she shook her head; believing he had reverted back to his prior behavior and odd ways. However, his quiet words stopped her, cold.

"She has bared the elves entry." He saw the concern flash in her eyes, and made a decision to tell…her…about the Headmistress, despite what Sty had said. He knew…her, and while not whom he would have thought he would associate himself with; he did…respect her intellect and compassion. "And not taken a meal since yesterday morning."

Hermione's head snapped towards the door, "Do you know if she is awake?"

He shook his head, "I do not believe she has risen today."

"Not risen?" She whispered in utter shock at Krecher's far too disturbing comment, _After all, how could Minerva McGonagall not have risen? It was after 2 in the afternoon._ Can you…" She swallowed the sudden feeling of dread pooling in the pit of her stomach, "Unlock her door?"

He snapped his fingers and vanished, the door clicking open as he did; drawing her attention away from his disappearance…and to the chamber and woman within.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

With a sense of trepidation, Hermione stepped forward. Her movements were slow and exceedingly cautious as fingers gently pushed open the door, "…Minerva?" She called out into the room as she past the entry way and small sitting area; the boundary of how far she had entered into the venerable woman's domain prior to now.

"Minerva…" Again, her voice rang through the air, as she stepped into the spacious living room, barely noticing the rich splendor of the décor as her eyes scanned area…the bookcases lining the walls, the chairs by the fire, the empty bottles of _Og's Nectar _littering the coffee table…her stomach dropping at the notion of what that meant. With seeming aching slowness, she darted forward; heart pounding in her veins at what she'd find as she stepped around the back of the chesterfield.

There, in an uncomfortable looking, twisted position laid the very woman she had sought…appearing as anything, but the normally stately and venerable Minerva McGonagall. Her own panic subsided at seeing the gentle rise and fall of Minerva's chest; and she realized that Minerva had drank herself in unconsciousness. The bottles on the table were all a clear indication, but the one lying upon the floor partially full gave Hermione an idea at exactly _how _determined the Headmistress had been at _trying _to lose consciousness. Brown eyes flickered back to the slumbering woman, her robes were untidy and wrinkled…ebony hair askew as it framed her face, making her already pale skin if at all possible, whiter…and the dark circles beneath her eyes seemed as though she had two black eyes. It was far too apparent that the woman lying before her was anything but alright; especially given the pallor of her skin and her slight weight Hermione had noted the day before.

_ She needs help, _Hermione thought as she stepped around the table pulling her wand out. She concentrated on spells she hadn't used in what felt like a lifetime, and transfigured the chesterfield into a bed; another flick and her robes became an emerald green set of loungewear. And Hermione felt her breath catch as the thickness of the clothing was replaced by thin silken attire; showing how thin Minerva had become. Minerva…shifted, absently reaching and Hermione darted forward thinking she needed a pillow; and upon leaning over…cool fingers touched her forearm.

"…Ame…lia…?" Her raspy lilt breaking the stillness.

The word no was on the tip of her lips; but Minerva had rolled over, already back asleep.

"Amelia?" Hermione quietly reiterated as she sat down next to the elder woman, who innately shifted closer to her warmth wondering if the person Minerva mentioned was Amelia Bones and who that was to her. If she was lucky…she'd find out.

With a sigh, she summoned a blanket…and was moderately surprised to see an emerald green afghan float forward and into her outstretched hand. She'd always figured her for Gryffindor colors. Flipping the wrap open, she covered both her and Minerva's legs; before settling in for a few hours when Minerva rejoined the land of the conscious.

And…she steeled her nerves for the cold reception she was sure to receive when Minerva awoke; not sure if she could possibly prepare her for what awaited her.

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Oxox

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A/N: Going to _really_ try to update a snippet a day. Hope you enjoyed!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Hermione dropped the book into her lap as Minerva jerked awake, bolting upright…eyes trying to focus on her whereabouts as her right hand came up to her temple while her left cradled her stomach.

"Easy." Hermione whispered.

Without so much as an acknowledgement, Minerva transfigured and her tabby form darted to her personal rooms and not even four seconds later she could hear the very distinct sound of someone vomiting. Hermione immediately threw the cover off, following the wretched noise to see the pitiful sight of Minerva sitting on the floor; head leaning against the vanity, fingers upon the lip of the commode. Sweat rolling down her pale forehead, her breathing labored…and Hermione was surprised to hear her voice, albeit hoarse, break across the air.

"That is far enough, Hermione."

She hadn't cracked open her eyes, hadn't moved…was still sitting with her head propped up along the burly chestnut wood and she had known who was here. It was impressive. Incredibly…had the situation not been so sad. "I'm only here to help." Hermione quietly uttered as she kneeled.

"I'm fine." Came the terse reply, and had Hermione not been looking directly at her; she would have believed her. But…she was and couldn't just walk away after all the woman not even two meters away from her had done for her…for Hogwarts, for Britain.

"You will be." Hermione softly rebuked, drawing the first movement she had seen as an eye cracked open.

Minerva swallowed…in part her pride, as her raspy lilt covered the scant distance between them. "Please…leave me…Hermione. I'll be fine."

Hermione found herself at a crossroads; to do what she asked or to ignore her. And…the student who attended Hogwarts for six years wanted to flee; the woman who had seen far too much suffering this past year…couldn't and wouldn't leave no matter how much of her truly wanted to. "Perhaps…after you've taken a few potions and you've eaten a bit."

Hermione watched as the knuckles in her fingers became momentarily whiter as Minerva went to push herself upright; but quickly altered her direction, as she lunged forward…stomach retching again. Hermione stepped in, pulling her hair out of her face as Minerva emptied the paltry remains of her stomach.

"Please…" Minerva's voice sounding broken as she remained unmoving, fingers white knuckled…sweat dripping off her brow, as she took in labored breaths. "Leave."

Hermione's fingers let go the soft, silky strands; and reached around the woman's slight frame; and flushed the toilet as she answered. "No." She stood, "Do you have any potions in here to stop vomiting and to treat a hangover?" She stepped around Minerva, eyes quickly scanning the shelving.

Minerva let go of the toilet seat, her head resting on the vanity. "The…cabinet behind the mirror."

Hermione's fingers went to pull the mirror from the wall, like the medicine cabinet in her parents' home; but it didn't budge. Frowning, she tried again. "How do I open it?"

"Magic." She breathed raspily as she willed her stomach to remain at bay.

Hermione pulled her wand from her sleeve and cast a vanishing spell and was surprised to see hundreds of bottles littering the shelves. "Which one?"

"Second from the bottom…right side."

At once, she pulled the bottle and read that it was indeed an anti-vomiting potion. "Here." She unscrewed the cap before handing it to Minerva. "And a hangover potion?"

Minerva upended the bottle, hating the bitter tang residue, her stomach already recoiling from the foul taste. "Somewhere on the bottom to the right."

Hermione scanned the names, wondering how often Minerva needed to be treated for a cure of Dragon Pox or growing sinew; but she was the Head of Gryffindor and Deputy…correction, Headmistress of Hogwarts so who knew what she had need to treat over the course of a school year. A cobalt vile had the designated name and she handed it to Minerva.

Upon drinking it, Minerva felt marginally better. At least her head was no longer pounding as loudly as a Centaur's drum, but…she was far from fine. Although, she was not about to tell that to Granger…_Hermione_, she inwardly corrected as she willed her body to stand and…to her utter dismay, she felt a pair of hands beneath her arms along her back helping her to stand. "I'm not an invalid." Minerva snapped, temper as raw as her stomach.

"No one said you were." Hermione carefully removed her hands, as she cast a glance to the mirror; to see the deep black circles still prevalent beneath green eyes, sunken cheeks and ashen white skin. "How long have you not been sleeping?" She carefully asked, as Minerva splashed some cool water on her face.

Minerva paused, glancing up with a slight narrowing of her eyes to see Hermione's reflection staring at her own as droplets of water ran off her face. With a defeated sigh, she repeated the process. "I honestly don't know the last time I slept the whole of the night." Wandlessly she summoned the small towel to dab her face dry, "Before Albus passed, I suppose."

Hermione had migrated to the door frame, head turned away so as to not make Minerva anymore uncomfortable with what had transpired as she rinsed out her mouth. "And how long have you not been getting any sleep?"

Minerva rinsed her mouth out again before answering, not inclined to divulge anymore than she already had. "Hermione," She carefully turned around, fingers holding the edge of her vanity as she met the younger woman's steadfast gaze. "I do appreciate your…assistance, however, I will be fine."

"As you've stated, multiple times." Hermione felt her resolve cracking as she wanted to turn, flee and forgo the rest of the conversation; but…her feet remained unmoving as her throat clenched and heart beat faster as the last of her thoughts slipped heavily from her lips. "But, somehow, I don't think that is quite true."

Long seconds slipped by as murky emerald eyes defiantly stared back, trying to partially mask the depths of her fatigue, pain and loneliness…if only for five more minutes, and she would be alone. Better not to trust, than to find herself…equally as isolated as she was now but with the fresh loss of another friend. "I do apologize for my state upon your arrival, and I thank you for your assistance, but I am fine. And you are free to leave and apologize for any inconvenience I caused."

She was so formal. So…Headmistress McGonagall…that Hermione could no longer justify her remaining, even though she _knew _she should. Something was out of place, but she didn't know the woman before her well enough. And…she wondered if anyone knew her well enough, especially after Dumbledore's death. "If you need anything, please let me know."

Minerva felt a burst of relief spread through her, despite her wavering vision and strength. She merely had to maintain for minutes at best. Summoning in the depths of her person, she found the tenacity to remain upright. "Thank you." Minerva forced herself to move forward and out of her bathroom, fingers lightly brushing along the wall and then door frame to help her keep her balance if necessary. "Perhaps if you are available in two weeks when we begin rebuilding…"

Hermione nodded, "I already was planning on it." She turned her head to the side, noting that the elder woman's face had grown paler in the ten steps they had taken, and she stopped. "Why do you push people away?" She asked before she even realized what she was doing.

If the situation had been different, their respective expressions of shock at her question would have been priceless. Minerva's…out of the brashness of the young woman's question; Hermione's…that the question had been given form from her lips. Both women momentarily stood there, undulated shock leeching off both their faces. However, Minerva, due to her countless years as a Professor and surviving three wars…had left her with the skill to recover with the speed of her animagus and…with seeming ease she replied. "I do not push people away, Hermione." She softly continued, "However, I do like my privacy."

_In for a knut…in for a galleon…_Hermione decided, as she dove ahead. "And after I leave, who will _you _seek out? That wasn't one too many drinks, Minerva…" She stepped incrementally closer to her, cadence soft but unyielding. "That was one too many bottles. From the circles lining your eyes, the paler of your skin, the slightness of your frame and the lack of spark in both your voice and eyes…you need a respite and time with friends because whatever has happened this year; has taken a toll upon you."

"Assuredly a respite is needed, however…that is not an option." Murky green eyes became laced with sorrow, "Now, if you will forgive me, I am tired and…" She didn't bother try and continue to walk Hermione from her chambers as the potions, adrenaline, alcohol and fatigue coalesced…she veered towards her bed. "Please see yourself out." She pulled the blanket back, only to feel someone else's presence behind her. "Hermione…" She went to turn but felt a hand stay her movements.

"You'll want to change before you lie down, you'll feel better."

Minerva didn't turn around, "I plan to."

Hermione went to interject, she didn't see how Minerva was going to change clothes as no others were present, but Minerva eased into onto the mattress and she felt herself blush as she realized what Minerva meant…as the long lines of her back could clearly be seen. She had banished her top and who knew what else, as Minerva pulled the covers up, hiding all but the back of her shoulders from view. There were so many things that she _wanted _to ask, _wanted _to push on about, _wanted _her to answer…but now was not the time, so she pushed her own _wants _aside for the moment. "Do you need anything else?" She softly inquired to her back.

Minerva gripped the pillow under her right arm tighter, answering a bit too honestly, but at the moment she didn't care. She was too tired. "Just one night of sleep, without hearing their screams or seeing their faces…"

"I can stay…" Hermione began.

"I'll be fine." Minerva tiredly interjected, the first vestiges of sleep already lining her voice. "Always…am."

Hermione opened her mouth, but just felt her jaw drop farther open at the heartfelt, quiet…albeit probably still mildly drunk statement was brokenly spoken aloud.

"Even…when burying half of world, my students…friends…family…walk away…not a scratch. But…took my students lives…for my own… Not a - sc..tch." Her breathing began leveling off as the last of her words died away, "No – . Have ta thank Herm..ne. Cares…ta much…b…..ful…eyes."

* * *

_Xoxo_

I know…I know. I thought, silly me, that work had slowed down. I couldn't have been more wrong. Hence, the lack of updates. However, the moderately good news is that I do have almost half of the next chapter of Bonding written and am actually off today. So…you may even get an update on that by the end of the weekend too.

As always, hope you enjoyed & thanks for taking time to leave me a note.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Hermione had busied herself cleaning up the bottles and upon doing so, found Minerva's broach nestled beneath the coffee table. Frowning she lifted the solid silver object, wondering what it was doing there especially as a second was atop the table. A flick of her wand revealed that the one atop the table was a faux one, whilst the one resting in her hand was the original.

Why would Minerva transfigure another broach when hers lie within reach?

She reverted the broach to its original state, to see a piece of emerald robe. "Why…?" She gently picked up the silk material, left with another layer of questions and leaving a far deeper concern for the elder woman in its wake.

A few minutes later, her boots and outer robe lay resting on the edge of the table as she pulled the light blanket up over her while nestling into the pillow. It was not the most comfortable mattress she had slept on, but in comparison to the last several weeks…it was rather comfortable, not that the bed in Ginny's room…she forced the thought away.

As it had already conjured up an image of Ron, and the debacle that had become their relationship, if one could still call it that.

She needed to get a few hours sleep, and thinking of Ron would bring her many things; except sleep. She let her eyes scan the room, amazed at how well the Headmistress' personal quarters had faired the battle. Or at the very least, how quickly she had 'fixed' this area. Either way…it was comforting. "Nox." She whispered and the room fell into a shadowed darkness, sleep already pulling at the edge of consciousness as she let her guard momentarily down. She was at Hogwarts. Even after the mammoth of destruction, it was still…a haven.

_Her haven, _she thought as the familiar scent of lavender and vanilla washed over her.

_

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Xoxo_

_A/N: :)  
_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Head thrumming with her pulse, Minerva raised the heel of her hand to her temple and forehead. She needed a headache draught. However, the sharp acrid aroma instantly met her and with bleary eyes she met the new day.

She had gotten sick last eve. Not only could she smell the foul remnants, it explained why her stomach felt as if something had died within it.

She'd need to eat a small bite before ingesting the draught. Dropping her hand, she pushed the linens away, and felt the smooth material slid down in a far more tactile way…

Glancing down confirmed her thought, she had banished her clothing last eve. _I must have gotten sick and banished my clothes before going to bed, _she thought sitting fully upright as the world momentarily spun before righting itself again.

Grabbing the edge of the bed, she pushed herself upward and padded to the bathroom. The light instantly flickered on, cascading across the expanse and her eyes involuntarily narrowed at the seemingly bright light. Green eyes gazed upon her reflection as they adjusted to the light, and a heavy sigh fell from her lips at how…tired and well…old she looked. The last year had taken a hellacious toll upon her. She was little more than a skeleton having lost close to thirty pounds, granted, she could stand to have lost a few…but thirty. Hardly. There was no extra weight, only skin, bone and what remained of her muscle. She could easily count her ribs without taking a breath or see the top of her hips; and then there were the scars. The Carrow brothers had…left their mark. Several…

She ran a hand along her left arm just above the elbow where Alecto had tried to sever it; however, much to his disdain, her reflexes had saved not only her limb but her life. And in return, given him an equally memorable mark.

Shaking her head at the memory, she paused and peered at the exposed cabinet. "I don't remember…" She muttered stepping a bit closer…and a vague memory of her leaning over the commode last evening and someone flushing…

Her eyes widened, and without thought, she grabbed her robe spinning around. Arms rapidly sliding through the fabric, instantly tying the belt two steps before she strode out of her bedroom and came to an abrupt halt as her vision morphed enabling her to see the slumbering woman upon the transfigured bed.

_She _hadn't left.

Minerva felt her head tip back, tears burning against the back of her eyes, _Just great._ She thought, trying to recall _exactly_ what had happened last eve, and how she was going to deal with the fallout from her momentary lack of control. Control she couldn't bring herself to _want _to put in place. She wasn't ready. She needed more time. She wasn't prepared to let the world rest upon her shoulders as she donned the title Headmistress of Hogwarts, stalwart, resilient, war hero…, and Merlin knew what else behind her name. She still needed to just be…Minerva without the bloody McGonagall.

A faint whimper pulled her thoughts away from her own turbulence, her eyes refocusing upon Hermione. She could see how the muscles along her neck strained, jaw clenching as fingers tightened around the edge of the sheet. Minerva needed no prompting, her feet already carrying her forward. She knew those signs. After all, she had lived through three wars. And the nightmares that follow were sometimes worse than the events.

With the grace of her feline counterpart, Minerva sat next to Hermione. A fleeting notion swept over her consciousness that now – this morning was not the best time to try and help another when she…was still trying to find her own way back from the brink after this last war. However, she was already reaching forward, left hand gently wrapping around her right one…while her right one brushed back locks of sweaty hair from her face. "You're safe, Hermione." She whispered, "You're safe…"

Brown eyes shot open, pupils widening and focusing as she wildly looked up into green pools. The thick Scottish lilt rarely heard over the length of her tenure while at Hogwarts, soothingly whispering that she was safe. And she leaned forward, burying her head in to another's warmth…lavender and vanilla sweeping over her; her fingers clutching the fabric as her heart hammered against her ribs, the last vestiges of her nightmare disappearing…as gentle circles caressed her back and fingers combed through her hair…

_

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Xoxo_

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed._


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

It wasn't until she went to pull out her robes that made Minerva pause. Normally, she would have chosen something…light, summer was here and she had a bit of work to do whether she wished to or not. As she could not stand to look at the shattered remains just outside her quarters for another day. However, this morning had fallen well outside of 'normal'.

And her shoulders incrementally fell as she reached for her heavier, traditional teaching robes. A previous student was just beyond and…she had to maintain a sense of decorum. Even though…less than half an hour ago, she had held the young woman in nothing but her linen bathrobe.

Her hand momentarily strayed towards the lighter under robes as the internal war raged onward, until finally she decided. Or rather, she had come to her senses…and with decades of practice she slipped on her teaching robes and emerald outer robe. A few minutes more, she had spun up her hair, charmed away not only the offending black circles beneath her eyes or the light redness from where Masterson had struck her before applying a bit of light rouge to her cheeks…plum to her lips, her boots had been donned, and without looking – she knew she appeared to be the woman she always was, Minerva McGonagall. If only she felt like it too.

* * *

Oxxo

* * *

_A/N: Another morsel._


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Breakfast had started out as an awkward affair. Neither woman _wanting _to discuss their own personal situation, however, curiosity pulsed to know the others. Yet, neither pried knowing full well it would lead to a far too personal path.

Instead, they each focused on their own breakfast.

Hermione savoring her coffee with a cube of sugar, Minerva taking a sip of pure petrol.

"I did not realize you drank coffee." Minerva remarked as Hermione raised the black liquid to her lips.

"Something I started this past year." Hermione took a sip, "However, I limit myself to two cups."

"A wise course of action." Minerva picked up the offending crescent, knowing that she _needed _to eat something, despite what her stomach felt like having. The flaky substance breaking apart in her mouth as a metallic taste resonated across her palate. And she swallowed, jaw discreetly clenching to keep the bile in her stomach…there versus the alternative.

Hermione slid her food to the other side of her mouth, "For some reason, I always thought you drank tea with breakfast."

"I do." Minerva lifted her eyes, "In the Great Hall, as I have my coffee and a nip of food well before."

"Then this morning, was abnormal and you are usually up before the sun?"

"Quite." Minerva forced another bite down her throat, before finishing. "As I traditionally wake between four-thirty and five."

"Every morning?" To say Hermione was moderately surprised, was understated. She had always believed Minerva was an early riser, but four? "I've seen you…" She was about to stop but trudged onward, "When at Hogwarts up well after eleven. When do you sleep?"

"I should ask what you had been doing out after curfew," Minerva remarked, "I've never needed much sleep."

"That isn't even five hours."

"Of that I am aware." Minerva took a sip, "And how much sleep do you need? As I too have seen you up far later than the other students and at breakfast much earlier."

A look of chagrin passed over Hermione's face, "Perhaps six hours."

"And of late?" Minerva gently asked.

"Less." Came the whispered response. "Much less." Brown eyes fell to her plate, unable to meet surprisingly caring green ones.

Minerva's hand gripped the napkin in her lap as she forced herself to continue onward, "It will get easier, Hermione."

Teary eyes lifted upwards, "I can hope." She forced a smile onto her lips, "As do I that whatever has obviously plagued your heart that it too will lighten."

"Given enough time, I assure you; it will too." Minerva met brown eyes; their gazes locking for several minutes. An unspoken moment passing between them that they would let their own curiosity go and the matters lay for the sake of the other.

The remainder of their meal was filled with small talk regarding the latest journal of transfiguration. Neither one wanting to delve into the last year, each one content upon maintaining the subterfuge of 'normalcy'. They had talked liked this numerous times before in Minerva's office over the years, however, the talk much like the young woman – had changed. She was no longer the young eager student who was seeking understanding; instead she was a striking woman who challenged published theory with her astounding intellect.

It was a refreshing and remarkable transformation.

One that rarely occurred so quickly, if at all.

However, it served as a reminder that the woman before her was - anything but typical.

* * *

Oxox

_A/N: :)_


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Hermione paused, "Profes…" She smiled glancing upwards, "Minerva, there is one thing…perhaps you could assist me with."

Minerva's left hand gripped the door knob, tighter. _She had been so close,_ she nodded. "Of course." _After all, Hermione hadn't pried. You can maintain your facade for a few more minutes. And undoubtedly, whatever it is, is probably the reason why she stopped last eve. _"What is it, dear?"

"My parents…" Hermione took a stabilizing breath, "I…sent them to Australia with new memories and...is there any way to revert the memory charm and perhaps track them?"

"Revert the memory charm, yes; as for tracking them, no. However, I do have a few friends I can inquire to assist in finding your parents if you are willing to entrust their new names to me and subsequently to them."

"Wendell and Monica Wilkins." Hermione relayed without preamble, wanting to believe that it would be as simple as Minerva making a few inquires. But even she doubted that. While Hermione was sure she'd have connections throughout the wizarding world, she wasn't Dumbledore; but she could still hope.

"Wilkins." Minerva eyed her former student with appreciation, and her soul was exhausted; she found herself _wanting_ to ease the sliver of hopelessness that glimmered in the depths of brown eyes. "Very well. Let me see what I can do to assist."

A wave of relief washed over Hermione, and she instantly leaned forward; arms wrapping around the elder witch startling her and forcing her to let go of the door to maintain her balance. "Thank you." She breathed, "So much."

With mild reservation, Minerva returned the hug. "I haven't done anything yet," her lilt broke across them, "and I may not be able to."

Hermione leaned back noting the distance taking up residence within green eyes, as they pulled apart. "Please tell me you didn't just consent to assist out of obligation, as I will not lie that I am elated at your comment; but I'd rather go to Australia myself versus add an additional burden upon you at the moment."

"I would not have offered if it was a burden." Minerva remarked, vying to maintain the façade.

Brown eyes swept over Minerva's tired countenance, and ever so slowly began shaking her head. "I don't believe you." She softly stated shocking them both.

Minerva found herself doing the unthinkable, relaying a harrowing truth to alleviate suddenly despondent features. "I am tired beyond measure," her voice barely construed a whisper, "as I have not slept for more than two or three hours at a time for longer than I can remember. And while I am in desperate need of a respite, I would not have offered if I was not able nor willing."

"But is it too much?" Hermione softly inquired.

"Traveling to Australia to assist at this point would be too much; as my reserves are quite taxed. However, making a few inquires to old acquaintances is far more pleasant a notion than dealing with the dozens of calls I received from the Ministry daily; even if half are from Kingsley."

"Minerva…"

The woman named merely laid her fingers upon Hermione's forearm; her expression causing Hermione's words to fall silent. They stared at the other for a long moment, before a soft Scottish lilt broke through the air. "Go and let me rest for a bit more," She nodded to the hallway, "I will see you tomorrow; and with luck I'll have news."

Hermione nodded, "Very well." She was about to step from Minerva's rooms but remained steadfast as she forced herself to utter her concern after last evening. "But, please Minerva -" _How do you express your concern to one of the most esteemed witches of Britain that she may be drinking too much when you don't know one iota about her? _"There are other ways to garner more sleep than through a bottle."

"For sleep yes," Minerva admitted, "to find a blissful moment of unconsciousness, no."

"What of a dreamless draught?"

Minerva couldn't help look of trepidation that crossed her face, "Perhaps at a later time."

Hermione's incredible intellect quickly processed the flash of anxiety regarding why Minerva would not wish to take a dreamless draught; and a pang of guilt pulsed in her stomach as she realized why. "I'll stay." She murmured as she found the strength to continue on, "And watch you while you sleep."

"I greatly appreciate your offer, but I shall be fine."

Images of last evening flashed across her mine and Hermione felt tears against the back of her eyes, "You weren't last night." She steadied her voice, "No different than I."

Minerva swallowed, hard. It had been a lifetime ago since someone had seen her as Hermione had; and there was a mixture of relief and a feeling of exposure derived from that knowledge. "We have both been left with scars from this war, Hermione. And while in the solitude of my chambers or the sanctity of my Manor; I am not the formidable Deputy or Headmistress of Hogwarts nor can I be."

"I'm not asking you to be." Hermione forced herself to acknowledge the truth regarding the Headmistress; she was not an icon, a statue but a person, a woman who was like her and the rest of the world despite her Herculean efforts at remaining stoic – but unlike the rest of the world, she appeared to be alone. "Merely to let me help you and vice versa."

"You will be far too busy assisting your friends and…"

"Don't," Hermione pushed ahead, interrupting her, "As you haven't a clue what my life will entail for the next day, week or month. I only know that I wish to find my parents, and _you_ may be able to assist me with that; and in turn I may be able to help you with rebuilding Hogwarts and we both…" Hermione quelled her nerves as she quietly finished, "help each other in overcoming the last several months; because it's apparent we both need it."

Minerva should have said no, should have argued about the absurdity of the notion but she was too tired of fighting and being alone. "I'll prepare a room for you in the morning."

"I can…"

"In the morning Hermione." A finality lacing her Scottish brogue, "As I am too tired to verify the latticework's warding around any additional rooms and will do so this coming evening; then we can begin repairing the room tomorrow."

"I look forward to it Minerva; and I shall hope you have news for me then."

Minerva didn't reply save for a nod, her fingers already clutching the knob wanting to separate herself from the woman who seemed to wade through her defenses as though they were made of papier-mache, which in this case, papier-mache would probably have been stronger.

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Xoxo

A/N: :)


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"Hullo darlin'," Marcus replied, "I hear congratulations is in order, _Headmistress_."

"So it would seem." Minerva remarked hearing Elaine laughing in the background; "Though it is rather a pile of stone at the moment."

"Well, make your rooms extra large when rebuilding."

"I had planned on it."

His chuckle rippled across her the air before he asked, "Will you be able to have it done by the start of term?"

"I wish I had time to speak of such matters, but that is not why I called."

"Oh," Concern fell across his face, "Is everything alright?"

"I am calling in a favor."

"Of course."

"It's regarding a muggle couple, Wendell and Monica Wilkins; a …" She found the word student, unwanted and friend – to close for her comfort at this point; but yet, Marcus wouldn't do it without cause. "…friend oblivated their memories to save them."

"Who are they to your friend?"

"Her parents." Minerva replied without pause.

Marcus nodded, "I'll make the call tonight and we'll wake up Jayne, Edmund and Eryn. We should be able to give you a location by this time tomorrow."

"I'm afraid…that isn't good enough."

At this Marcus expression froze voice uncannily quiet. "Minerva, what _do _you need?"

"Not only the location, but if they are alive, a detail ensuring their safety for the next several days until I can arrange for their safe transportation back to England."

"I…" Marcus was interrupted by his wife, Elaine. "Minerva, if they are under cover, our presence would highlight…"

"I _am_ aware of what I am asking Elaine."

"Then tell us who they are, really."

"I will, _after_ you find them."

Minerva watched as both Elaine and Marcus pulled themselves back, murmurings back and forth as they decided what and whether they would do what Minerva asked. Fortunately or unfortunately, she could hear their deliberations – and at times like this, she detested her keen hearing.

"We'll take care of it." Marcus finally stated, and Minerva felt the burdensome weight marginally increase at what they would be potentially risking at her bequest.

"Thank you." She stated, feeling if at all possible, more tired.

"Rest easy and tell your friend not to worry; I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Minerva carefully replied, ensuring any worry she felt for them had been removed from her voice. "Remember to be careful."

"And remember you can't fix the entire castle in a day, there will still be holes tomorrow and the next day; so pace yourself."

"Till tomorrow." Minerva bravely smiled at her friends and pulled herself from the fire; hoping that they'd be able to find Hermione's parents – trying not to worry anymore about her friends and that Hermione's parents would escape the same fate that once befell hers.

Xoxo

_A/N: Happy b-day Tigertales._


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Ginny maneuvered around the kitchen island, "Look, I know things aren't well with you and Ron, but you can still come over to the Burrow this evening." She continued on, "Harry and I are just worried, you didn't come last night and with everything, you didn't need to be alone anymore than any one of us."

"I wasn't alone last evening," Hermione stated as she put the tea back, "and before you ask, I was at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts." Ginny narrowed her eyes, "Is there anyone even at the school other than the ghosts right now?"

"There are, and I'm going back tomorrow morning and will be staying at Hogwarts for the next several weeks."

"What? I thought you were going to Australia to find your parents? Since when did that get moved to you staying at Hogwarts?"

The word Minerva was too fresh, too new and she was still not comfortable with it herself; let alone saying that name to a friend and previous classmate. "The Headmistress is making inquiries for my parents to assist in locating them this week. If she cannot find them, then I will be leaving for Australia as planned; and when I return," Minerva's haggard image loomed close to the surface, "I'm going to help rebuild Hogwarts after my parents are settled. That is if they still need any help."

"Why don't you stay at the Burrow in the evening, and work at Hogwarts during the day? Staying there at night, if the dreams start…there won't be anyone to help you. At least close by," Ginny quickly added.

"I love you and Harry, and your family Ginny; but I do not want to be around your brother."

"He's going to the Ministry tomorrow for the day, applying to be an Auror; and with the shortage of Aurors I'm guessing Kingsley will hire him. What I'm trying to say is that Ron won't be there all the time, and you can you still act civil with each other."

Hermione flung the glass forward, causing it to careen through the air and shatter across the cabinets. "I don't _want_ to be civil with him, Ginny!" Hermione snapped, brown eyes laced with red as tears threatened to spill over. "So, no, I don't want to go to the Burrow – today, tomorrow, or probably for the next week if that means having to spend time with him!"

Ginny ignored the way the tea was dripping off the cabinets into the large puddle on the floor, "He was an ass the other night, and he made an accusation about you and Harry that was way off base; but damn Hermione give him a break. He just lost his brother. We all did."

"And I haven't had my family for the past year, so does that mean I have the right to be a bitch? To say that it's alright Bellatrix scarred me, that he'll fix it and if not it can be glamoured away!" Hermione thrust her sleeve up, "She etched the damn word into my skin, Ginny. It _isn't_ going anywhere. Nor can I help it if I occasionally shudder when someone touches me, and for him to think that I did it on purpose because I fucking like Harry!"

Ginny reached out, touching the marred flesh, "Oh honey…" blue eyes sparkled with barely contained tears, as she traced the horrific word 'Mudblood' upon her friend's arm. "I didn't know…"

Hermione's jaw flexed, "Only Harry and now Ron do…along with you."

"Did anything else…happen while you were at Malfoy's Manor?" Ginny timidly asked, unsure if she wanted to know the truth.

Hermione read the mixed emotions, and as much as she needed a friend to talk about it; Ginny wasn't ready and if she was honest with herself – she wasn't ready either. "Let it go, for now. Just know that I need some space from Ron, and believe me when I say its better for everyone involved if I stay away for a week or two."

"But are you sure Hogwarts is the right place?"

"It's better to be busy than idle and waiting."

"There is definitely enough to keep you busy for months." Ginny wiped the last remnant of her tears away, "Actually I'm surprised that McGonagall is planning on opening Hogwarts on time with the destruction that the castle suffered."

"Then I guess you'll have to come over help in two weeks when the Professors and everyone comes back to begin the main clean-up."

Ginny nodded, "Alright. I'll drag Harry along, but if it doesn't start for two weeks, what'll you be doing?"

Hermione stared at Ginny for a heartbeat as she tried to come up with what she would be doing for the next two weeks. "Assisting in repairing some of the professor's quarters and such." And she wondered how true her previous statement was as Ginny commented about the fabled Hogwarts kitchens and what it would take to make them fully operational; after all, what else would Minerva and she work on?

* * *

xoxo

* * *

_a/n: a Sunday morning drabble…_


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Minerva stretched her magic, feeling the wards ripple over her own and with gritted teeth she held her arms upright – the warding in the area was barely held together and would take far more than an hour or two to correct.

She lowered her arms, almost resignedly as every common room would need great repair prior to enabling someone to remain. She knew that Filius and Pomona's rooms were repaired, as she had helped them before they left; but she would not permit Hermione to remain in their _home – _nor any of the other returning professor's rooms.

_Returning professors…_

And Minerva banished the thought of how many positions she had to replace this upcoming term year. The last thing she needed was a reminder of _how_ much work she still had to do.

With a subtle shake of her head, she turned and at seeing the crumpled stone and debris she let out a heavy sigh and pulled the wards to her; reappearing just north of her quarters. If she was going to conduct repairs, she was going to finish the area by her – first.

Channeling a modicum of her frustration, she raised her wand; letting her emotions come to the surface as she pulled the warding to life and with a spell on her lips and a flick and swish of her wrist – a rush of sound moved a hundred meters and the scorch marks were erased.

Another spell and flurry of wand movements caused the stone debris to lift upwards, turning cherry red as did the hallway…and piece by piece the crevices were filled in until after a half hour; the hallways was once again – whole.

Tiredly, Minerva pushed back a lock of hair and lifted her wand again; summoning the coat of arms that had once presided down the hallway. Slowly, one by one, pieces of armor in various states of disrepair fluttered into the area – and with pain staking reverence, each piece was rebuilt to its previous magnificence.

By the time shafts of twilight began littering the hall, Minerva was all but done; emerald eyes scanning the final portrait.

"At this rate, you'll have Hogwarts back to pristine condition in no time." Olgaphine Yentil's softly stated.

"One can only hope." Minerva replied as she wove the canvas back together, careful to realign the chair so it was not broken and create a problem for Olgaphine should she chose to sit. She glanced over the rim of her glasses as she finished, noticing the growing darkness and glanced to barren torches. "Thank you for your recent assistance."

"It is I who thank you, Minerva." Olgaphine moved the chair, eyeing the leg to see if it would sustain her weight.

"It'll hold," Minerva took a step away, "good evening." She reached up pulling her glasses from her face and with a final incantation brought the torches to life; light instantly spreading across the expanse as torch after torch joined the warding enabling it to know if someone was within the area.

The lights sparked as she tiredly moved to her rooms, not even noticing as the portrait gave way – her fatigue too pronounced. She eyed the cabinet where her nectar supply rested. _Perhaps tomorrow, _she thought too tired to even bother with the simple task as she continued to place one foot before the other until she was close enough to simply fall onto her bed and let the world go by again.

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_a/n: wishing everyone a wonderful day!_


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Hermione glanced back at the steps and then to the corridor, frowning. This entire wing had been in shambles yesterday morning. She had had to walk along the western wall to cross the area by the steps from the chasm in the floor, not counting the debris; but this morning it had somehow been restored to its previous state.

Not one scorch mark laced the corridor, not one ounce of debris was seen littering the floor, not one piece of stone was missing from the walls or floor, even the portraits appeared whole along with the suits of armor and other adornments that had previously existed here.

Hermione couldn't help but feel lighter at seeing a piece of Hogwarts restored so quickly. If Minerva had done this in one day, she was sure they'd have a large portion done before the Professors returned and when they did; it'd only take perhaps another week or at most two to finish.

"Password?" The portrait's voice asked intersecting her thoughts.

"Ahhh, Minerva's expecting me." The portrait didn't say a word but vanished and a heartbeat later, a click sounded and Hermione reached for the now apparent handle. "Thank you," she stated before moving into her previous head of house's rooms.

"Good morning," Minerva's crisp voice drawing Hermione past the sitting area, again.

"Good morning," Hermione replied as she stepped into the living room and saw Minerva sitting at a desk with a cup and saucer resting on the left corner; looking slightly more rested but she couldn't help but wonder if Minerva was using a glamour charm. "You said you usually get up early, but with everything…I didn't know if you would be up or not. So I came a little later."

Minerva reached up pulling her glasses off, "I've been up for some time," she replied beginning to wonder if her permitting Hermione to remain at Hogwarts for the interim was wise. As the woman who seemed unyielding and able to hold her own had somehow morphed into the rambling young lady now adorning her living room. _What had she been thinking? _With little effort she folded the arms of her glasses, _or perhaps she hadn't been because she had let herself get too damn drunk which had now created a colossal problem for the intermediate future._ "Have you eaten?"

"Ahh, yeah." Hermione cleared her throat, feeling oddly nervous under the elder witch's gaze; but she forced the feeling away as she glanced to the cup of tea before meeting emerald eyes again, "But if you haven't, I can stand to eat a bit more."

"I had something earlier," Minerva internally continued to debate the overall merit of last evening's idea, especially now.

"Then the kitchens are in little need of repair?" Hermione inquired hoping to dispel some of the awkwardness that seemed to have permeated the room.

"The elves are working on the kitchen. And have managed to reconstruct two wood ovens and three stoves, their focus though has shifted to the refrigeration units and the dry stores. Once they complete the dry stores area, it'll have to be reconnected to the warding."

"Which you or one of the professors will do?"

"As I am the only professor here capable and there will be more warding than I can do alone; and you are here for the interim – I thought perhaps you could assist as well."

"Ahh…of course. But how do I connect or reconnect items to the warding? In Hogwarts A History, there is little mentioned regarding the warding and what the warding is for, how it's done, the extent it is to warded?"

Despite her reservations and internal waging war, Minerva couldn't help stop the hint of a smile from spreading across her lips at Hermione's string of questions. Seeing that the younger woman's innate curiosity and thirst for knowledge hadn't been squelched or worse yet, abandoned but had remained after all she had been through, brought back a small spark to her weary soul. "I've been told on occasion, I'm a fairly good teacher and believe we can sort it out."

"You are a marvelous teacher and have no doubt in your abilities to teach me; but can I…" she swallowed the worry away, knowing that of anyone – the woman before her would be honest, "conduct the warding? I mean, I haven't taken my newts and…am not a teacher."

Green eyes scanned the reticent expression and felt the weight within her marginally ease at Hermione's question and subsequent statement. Her rationale was unlike so many – it wasn't that she didn't believe in her skills rather concerned about lack of knowledge. A rare commodity of late. As there was no stated doubt or insecurities regarding the magic, regarding the learning, regarding how or why, just a simple clarification question regarding belief based upon prior knowledge and learning. "While unusual it is not unprecedented for one such as yourself to conduct the warding. However, I will have to ask for a blood oath regarding what you learn in reference to the warding."

Hermione didn't bat an eye, "Of course. But," she cast a glance back to the door, "before we begin," and then met Minerva's gaze, "I was hoping to unpack a few things or is that where we are starting or from your statement yesterday, finishing?"

Minerva swallowed the unease that instantly formed in her throat, her decision having been made last evening as to repair one of the common rooms would take the better part of a week – and this next one, she _needed_ to spend working on the entry hall. "I did inspect the dormitories, but like most of Hogwarts – they are in need of great repair." She paused drawing an unsteady breath as _this_ idea had seemed doable last eve. A short term resolution so she could focus on the more pertinent repairs, except the woman was now standing in her rooms – _what had I been thinking?_ She questioned herself again as she uttered the answer. "As are the professors' rooms, and for the next week I need to solidify the main entrance before I can find suitable accommodations."

Hermione felt her jaw flex, "If you didn't want the help…"

"You are mistaken," Minerva stood, "I thought," she dug deep for what remained of her reserves as she stated the unthinkable aloud, "for the next two weeks, if you are amenable, you could remain here." She heard a sigh slip from her own lips as she stated the true reason for the previous statement and rationale for the odd accommodations, "There is much to be done over the next two weeks to keep Hogwarts stable and not endanger everyone when they return to help with the repairs. And I just…" she could feel tears instantly come to the surface as she tried to push the wall of emotion away, "I am tired, Hermione. I do not have the energy to repair both the entry hall and some place for you to sleep."

As quickly as the anger had flared for her momentary belief that Minerva had rebuffed her; was as quickly as it dissipated as she watched the normally stalwart woman admit something so personal, so open. "That's fine," she shrugged, trying to make light of the obviously awkward temporary living arrangements, "after living with Harry and Ron on the run in a tent for a year; this is far more luxurious."

Minerva motioned to the wall opposite as she began walking across the living area, "While not as spacious as the Head of Hogwarts; I do have a spare room." She opened the door, "That currently masks for another library, but it won't take much to move them."

Hermione had followed her and peered in, "They are fine," she breathed as her eyes raked over the spins nestled around the entire room save for a half a wall which housed a bed and nightstand and a wardrobe opposite – the shelving built around the antique. "Is this part of the library?" she asked turning to Minerva, "Or your own?"

"That is a compilation of transfiguration works."

"Transfiguration?" she whispered stepping into the room, loving the scent of aged parchment as greedy eyes scanned the titles along the spines.

"I'm missing a few, but that is almost every text published or journal written on the discipline."

"You can't be missing many." Hermione whispered in awe as she tipped her head back to read some of the titles above her. "Gawmps Third Law…" she pointed to the faded olive binding, "is that Gawmps' work?"

"Yes, along with his journals." Minerva pointed to the column past the books.

"I take it you've read them?"

"Many times," Minerva paused in recollection, "while brilliant, he was a rather self conceded man."

"Aren't most?"

A hint of a smile graced rosy lips, "I'll let you get settled," she stated, leaving Hermione alone as she internally mused on the peculiar situation she now found herself in regarding the younger woman.

* * *

Xoxo

_a/n: another Sunday morning drabble…Enjoy._


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Hermione stared at herself in the steamy mirror, foolishly unsure. After all, she had just spent the last half dozen hours working beside the elder witch, had known her for years, but despite the aforementioned, didn't mean she had ever shared the same living quarters with the formidable woman.

She knew she was being ridiculous, but it didn't stop her from making sure to go ahead and dry her hair and braid it. And when slipping on her robe over her night shift; she found herself tying the sash – another indicator of how uncomfortable she was. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to say anything, because while Minerva hadn't said anything or hinted that she was bothered by their arrangements – but she was certain it was bothering the elder witch equally.

Which left her wondering – _why had Minerva let me stay within her rooms for the interim? Why hadn't she merely told me that there was no place for me to stay? _

_ Perhaps she is just as tired of being alone as I?_

_ Or perhaps, she is just too nice and doesn't want to hurt my feelings with everything going on with my parents and she feels obligated to help…?_

Her shoulders sunk at the notion, and she willed the last thought away not willing to believe it. She couldn't. Not after everything that she had gone through; her eyes involuntarily glanced to the door her thoughts upon the woman beyond – and felt a small measure of relief in the knowledge that while she couldn't be sure of many things, she could be sure of at least one – she wasn't here because of pity.

Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her clothes in her towel and shrunk them into her pocket before tucking her wand into her sleeve and with what remained of her tattered Gryffindor bravery; she opened the door to her temporary home.

* * *

_a/n: :)_


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